Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Cute.” I spared a glance at the nearby grimy front window. No one was in the backyard, so I stole a fast, hard kiss. “Sure, you can order me around. But you’ll remember who’s in charge when it counts.”
“Uh-huh.” Sean gulped, cheeks going scarlet. “Don’t tempt me into fast-forwarding to that part.”
“Work first.” I smiled, gaze dropping to his groin. One kiss, and he was already raring to go. Did my ego—and other parts—good. “Gotta earn your distractions.”
“Yes, s—. I mean, indeed.” Still blushing, Sean handed me a large black trash bag. “Let’s see if we can clear out enough junk and trash to make cleaning possible.”
“You got it.” We worked in companionable comfort for a time, Sean chatty as ever, sharing stories about when Declan and his other kid, Bridget, had been little. I enjoyed listening to him talk, especially since he seemed to require minimal input from me. Too many folks assumed good conversation meant taking turns and ensuring everyone had an equal opportunity to contribute. I preferred the casual nature of hanging out with Sean, where I could interject as I wished, yet I didn’t feel any pressure to reciprocate.
“You’re good at this.” Sean gestured as I added another bag of trash to the pile by the door. The sun had set some time prior, but I wasn’t at all tired of the work or Sean’s cheery presence.
“What? Sorting trash?” I chuckled. “At least let me show you some skills with a drill or a crowbar before you go handing out compliments.”
“Trust me. After recently clearing out a twenty-year marriage, I’ll take demolishing a kitchen over sorting through an attic, basement, or a space like this.” He sighed as he turned a plastic kid-sized shovel over in his hands, thumb catching on a crack in the handle. “You don’t get as caught up in sentimentality or what to keep.”
“It’s easy when it’s not your stuff.” I plucked the broken shovel from his grasp and added it to the trash pile. Moving on, I opened a box to find musty gardening magazines from long-gone decades. An ominous-looking spiderweb occupied one corner, so I quickly shut the box and tossed it near the door. “Not that I’ve ever owned much. I like to travel light.”
Sean continued to paw through a box of old beach toys. “Having kids, I didn’t have the luxury of backpacking around in my twenties or anything like that, but downsizing everything after the divorce was rather freeing. I can see the appeal of the open road.”
“It’s fun.” I whistled the opening lines from an oldie about wild road trips. Sean laughed, and a warm feeling settled over me. Maybe he’d like an adventure. Head out together if we could manage a string of mutual days off. Or maybe—
“I’m probably too old for that kind of fun.” Sean laughed again, more self-consciously. “I say I’d like to travel, but I’d likely miss having roots too much to be a permanent nomad.”
“Probably so.” I nodded, ignoring the sudden ache in my chest. Sean might have a bit of post-divorce fun, but he was a family guy at his core. I gestured at the now much-emptier carriage house. “After you get this place all fixed up, you’ll want to stay awhile.”
It was clear he was already attached to Eric’s kids. Sean was the type to love easily, giving his heart away freely. I needed to remember that and tread carefully. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I also didn’t want to get used to all his easy affection, forget that caring was in his genes and not something personal.
“Sweat equity?” Sean finally added the box of beach toys to the trash pile, pausing to move a serviceable pail to the smaller collection of items to donate. He paused to wipe his forehead with the hem of his T-shirt. “There’s something to that. When you put in work, you feel more invested in a thing.”
“Hmm.” I wasn’t so sure I agreed, but I also didn’t want to derail Sean’s good mood with my own grumpy logic. In Sean’s world, a person did work, got rewarded for it, and built up capital they could count on. In my experience, life was seldom that kind.
“Oh, hey, I took your advice.” Sean looked up from opening a box of what appeared to be more boxes—small empty shoe boxes and other packing materials.
“Yeah?” The way he was smiling made me shuffle my feet, find something new to do with my hands. I gathered up big handfuls of old newspapers. What advice had I given him? The bit about needing to explore his sexuality? My back stiffened. “I mean good for you, play safe and all—”
“Not about sowing my wild oats. You’re about all I can handle right now, but thanks for the vote of support.” Sean rolled his eyes at me, seeing right through my efforts to not seem jealous. “No, I meant I called Declan.”